


chrysanthemum

by agendeer



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mental Shields, POV Chirrut Îmwe, Slow Burn, baze is fragile, chrysanthemum, i can't write anything else, just chirrut's side of the story lmao, someone stab me of course it's angst, spiritassassin, still third person tho, unhealthy relationship, what are tags help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agendeer/pseuds/agendeer
Summary: chirrut likes to think of baze as a chrysanthemum; beautiful, but always shaking, trembling at the slightest movement





	chrysanthemum

**Author's Note:**

> wow i can never dedicate myself to anything longer than 5k words so i settle with writing ficlets 
> 
> have some slow burn,,  
> i feel a bit queasy about this, i don't know why. maybe it's because this is sort of,, like, not a healthy relationship?? if you came for a fluffy fic this is not the one lmao. chirrut doesn't know what the fuck he's doing but he's definitely doing something wrong
> 
> this is pure angst non beta-ed and non edited. raw.
> 
> hmu on my tumblrs!! (in endnote)

on the outside, baze is tough. base lives trapped in a shell, hiding himself away from others, away from vulnerability. when chirrut asks why, baze just grumbles and says " _it's who i am_ ", but chirrut knows the truth. chirrut knows baze better than his own self. he knows his cracks and fissures; his skin, his scars, the exact tangles of his hair. he knows where he is soft, where he is weak, where will, when touched, elicit a small _yes_.

on the outside, baze is strong, but inside, baze is weak, faltering, sensitive. he puts up mental shields, barriers thicker than his armour, just to hide himself, to guard his secrets, to keep everything to himself. when someone asks about him, about who _he really is_ his words come out quicker and deadlier than the bullets he shoots. the words spill out like caf from the kettle and they're covered up with mumbles of  _i'm sorry, i didn't mean it._

chirrut knows he really doesn't mean to hurt anyone, not by the slightest scratch.

baze may appear to have the strengths of a bear, strong, roaring, ferocious, but in reality he is more delicate than chinaware and shatters likes glass.

chirrut likes to think of baze as a chrysanthemum; beautiful, but always shaking, trembling at the slightest shake or movement. he repels all that are bugs, or harmful. his beauty is composed of many strands, so many strands and petals of pure _baze_ and _rawness_. chirrut wants to reach out and touch him, caress him because he is _so delicate, so soft, so beautiful,_ but he can't because he knows at the slightest touch, at the slightest damage, baze will tremble and wilt, and just like that his petals fall off, one by one, until he is no more than a stem and an enclosed, protected bud.

he changes himself to become more strong, more courageous, more brave, but he is really just plucking off his own petals and throwing them into the water and damaging himself over and over and over again. " _i'm changing for the better_ ", he says. " _i'm becoming a better person._ " chirrut wants to say _no, stop, you're hurting yourself, you're beautiful, lovely, just the way you are, don't change, don't change!_ but chirrut just can't because then he'll hurt baze even _more_ and _more_ and _more_ and he'll lose him.

he tells himself it's for baze's good, that he isn't opening his mouth, but chirrut knows that it's really just selfish of him, that it's not right for him to cling onto one part of baze and hold on. he knows, he knows _too well_ that he should tell baze to _stop_ changing, _stop_ hurting himself but chirrut's too selfish, too selfish to take the blame, too ashamed to hold the label "i hurt baze", because although it's good for baze, and he will stop hurting and stop changing, it leaves chirrut with no baze, and without baze, there's no life for chirrut.

so chirrut picks baze up, and plants him in soil, so the petals can grow back. he sits aside and helps baze pluck out the petals where it'll hurt the least, where it'll least damage the other. he whispers sweet nothings into baze's ear and comforts him, just to distract him from the pain, from the torture he has to go through.

 _i'm protecting baze_ , chirrut thinks. _i'm helping him_. he lies to himself and although he's completely aware of it, he ignores his faults and carries on. baze is supposed to be chirrut's "protector" but chirrut is really the one protecting baze, shielding him from his faults.

chirrut knows that in reality, he's the one who's plucking out baze's petals, his feathers, his wings and hurting him, harming him, but he must.

chirrut is the soil, and he tells himself no matter how much he takes from baze, he'll always give it back again.

**Author's Note:**

> wow you've read far this isn't even a long fic it's jut difficult to read  
> thank you for reading!! as i am not yet 10/10 with writing, advice and comments in general are much appreciated!! thanku again!!
> 
> tumblr:  
> deadjjang - spam. lots of spam. multi fandom, talk to me about ANYTHING i post of lmao  
> aromantee - my writing tumblr!! also rather multi fandom


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